


The Secret of Orpheus

by lissette



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissette/pseuds/lissette
Summary: Kuroro begins to lose himself to apathy. With enemies before and behind him and with the living as uncertain as he himself is, he turns to the dead.





	The Secret of Orpheus

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the characters (if I did paku would still be alive). I find Kuroro really fascinating, so this was fun to write!

The man called his ability the "Secret of Orpheus".  


Kuroro could not deny that he admired the choice in name. Orpheus, the Greek demigod who nearly cheated death with nothing but the sound of his voice and the nen ability that allowed the living to nearly touch those departed. It was an apt name, one that Kuroro might have chosen for himself. The letters looked especially lovely written into his book, the ink curving letters that seemed ancient as soon as they dried. He had been saving a page for an ability such as this.

Techniques involving ghosts were few and far between. Those who devoted all of their time and energy into speaking to those already dead nearly always wasted away as soon as they perfected the technique, unwilling and unable to leave the deceased behind. Kuroro had always held the opinion that the dead were dead, there was no place for them anymore among the living. No mourning or vengeance could bring them back, so both actions were pointless.  


Why then was he so determined to keep this ability?  


He had heard rumors of a ghost-whisperer after the fight in Heaven's Arena. It was the perfect time for such an idea to stick in his head, the only time that such an ability would have caught his attention in the first place. Death was his friend, death was his  _servant_ , he understood and did not fight it, but there were times that even he faltered. When the  _Troupe_ faltered.  


His hands did not shake as he traced the words again. Never would he have expected to become the type to seek out the dead but... well, unpredictable was the new defining trait of his life.  


"This is a bad idea." Feitan's words were a mere breath above inaudible. He was not looking at his Boss, but at the book. His dark eyes were narrowed in distrust and a not small amount of hate. "Ghost-whisperers are nothing, Danchou. Let me kill him and let that gift die with him."  


Kuroro smiled, "Afraid of ghosts, Feitan?"  


"I am not afraid of shades. If someone I have killed comes for me again, I'll send them back to whatever hell they came from." He brightened the slightest bit. "Is that what this is for? Vengeance on someone who died too soon? Too easily?"  


"Not quite."  


He motioned for Feitan to leave him and the smaller man did so, but the frown on his face was obvious. Feitan was too loyal to share his doubts with anyone, but Kuroro could see the slight fear on his face. The torturer was likely worried that the Boss was succumbing to such a mortal malady like depression.  


Well, he could rest easy. Kuroro was in no danger of losing himself to sadness or cynicism. Stagnation or apathy, perhaps, but not depression.  


He traced the words once again. He would not have expected such a lovely name from a bitter old drunk living on the outskirts of Padokia, but there was an obvious power to the man that was undeniable. No torture or duress of any kind had been required to make him talk, just more booze.  


Peter Littner had once had a family and friends and enough money keep them all in comfort for decades, if he'd felt like. His life had probably felt like heaven, at least until his only child had fallen ill.  


Peter and his wife had bankrupted themselves attempting to cure their daughter, only succeeding in becoming sick as well. A fever had spread through Yorknew back then, a terrible one that left many dead. The fever took Littner's wife and daughter and left him scarred and poor.  


It was a sad story, but to a man born and raised in Meteor City it was hardly worth reacting to. What was interesting was Peter's reaction.  


He spent the remainder of his wealth on all sorts of mediums and psychics, almost all of which were fakes. The only person of worth was a man who offered to teach him "magic"... far more accurately known as nen.  


The rest of the story was self-explanatory. He would not tell Kuroro what had occurred once he used his ability, but Kuroro could guess. The man had spoken to the ghosts of his family and been emotionally ruined by so.   


Kuroro, however, was far more durable. He could feel himself beginning to stagnate, to falter... what he needed was a clear goal, one untouched by rage or fear. And if his living followers could not help him to achieve that? Well... he would just try those who had died.  


He placed his hand on the page and summoned his nen into place. The ability was relatively simple, requiring nothing but power and the names of the dead.  


The feeling of the nen was lethargic and heavy, almost like sleep. Every movement felt slow and as Kuroro's lips formed the first name he felt closer to death than he had in any fight before.   


" _Kortopi_." Such unfailing trust in those owl-like eyes, such unexpected cleverness.  


" _Shalnark_." Cold brilliance behind that deceptive innocence.  


" _Pakunoda_." So loyal, so damnably devoted and true.  


_"Uvogin_." Wild laughter and brazen boasts, the fiercest Spider of all.  


The air itself seemed to solidify and freeze around him. For a brief second, he was so cold he could not breathe. He closed his eyes.  


Then, so quickly it nearly made him sick, the air warmed again. The silence was so complete that the world felt unreal to him, far more than it had when the room had been simply cold.  


A laugh rang out.  


Kuroro's eyes opened, almost warily. Before him was a sight he had never expected to see again.  


Shalnark and Kortopi were watching him, though they looked... different. They seemed pale and wan, washed out by the colors around them. But Kuroro had been right not to expect a lovely, perfect reunion because that was clearly not what the Secret of Orpheus was preparing for him.  


There was a slash across Kortopi's neck, a vivid crimson slash that was the only spot of color on the boy. There were more of the marks across Shalnark, though thankfully he had appeared with his eyes. They stared at Kuroro, full of cold curiosity.  


"He's not going to stop with us, Danchou." Shalnark's voice sounded exactly as it had in life, the same almost childish tone present even in death. "We were an example. _We didn't matter_."  


"He's coming for the Spider and he's not going to stop, Danchou." said Kortopi. "He has to _be_ stopped."  


"They both do." Kuroro turned to look behind him, unsurprised to see Pakunoda and Uvogin. They both looked the same as they had in life... except for the eyes. Their eyes were blood-red, as stark and unnatural as those of the boy who had killed them. Somehow, Pakunoda's eyes were soft even with the vicious color, softer than life had ever allowed them to be. "They will not stop with us."  


Uvogin's grin was bold and ferocious as ever. "Let them fight, Danchou. Give them the order to take them out. Let them show the world that the Spiders can never die."  


Kuroro had a quick response to that, the same one given to Nobunaga in fact. "Neither are foolish enough to fight us all at once."  


"Then draw them out." Pakunoda spoke professionally, as though she was not referring to her own murderer. "The Kurta's too proud to act like a monster. And for Hisoka? Be a monster to fight a monster."  


"The chain-user is bound by honor. Hisoka is bound by pride. And being bound makes you  _weak_." Shalnark crossed his arms, absently tracing one of the slashes on his arm.   


"So your advice is to-"  


"Go wild." Uvogin boomed a laugh at that, so loud that Kuroro expected dust to fall from the ceilings. "Cut loose, Danchou, and kill anyone in your way."  


Kuroro actually laughed at that, a sound as full of life as his companions were of death. "Did death make you the Boss, Uvo?"  


"I'm just tired of watching you sit on your ass because from where I'm sitting it looks a hell of a lot like you're _afraid_." Uvogin had never spoken like him to this before, but Kuroro supposed that dying had earned him that right.  


"Don't look forward and don't look back, Danchou." Kortopi said, his voice close to silent.  


Pakunoda and Shalnark walked closer to him, both nearly touching him. Though he should have felt the warmth of their bodies, he felt nothing. Pakunoda smiled, "Don't look back. If you let rage control you, you'll lose. Being cold and being clever will keep you, will keep the Spider alive."  


"And don't forward, Danchou. If you get distracted by the possibilities and the fears, you'll get all tangled up. Plan for the now."  


"Don't look forward and don't look back?" Kuroro nodded as soon as he said the words, clarity lighting up the inside of his head.   


"No more waiting. Strike, Danchou." Uvogin bared his teeth in what could only loosely be described as a smirk. "Unleash and kill everyone who tries to take another Spider."  


Kuroro smiled once more. The living Spiders were too angry and too fearful (though they'd never admit it). They wanted revenge and safety but most of all they wanted life, in all its bloody, vivid glory.

The dead, however, could see things much more clearly. Though they still were clearly angry, they were no longer afraid, they were no longer _bound_.   


"Don't look forward." He said, as immovable as the dead.  


"Don't look back." The ghosts murmured back to him.  


"Goodbye." The word that canceled the nen and the word that he had not been able to tell any of them. The figures around him vanished, the only lingering traces the sound of their voices.  


Kuroro watched the page once more, then tore the page from the book. He did not rely on the living; there was no need to develop a reliance on the dead.   


The talk had cleared away the doubt and apathy leeching away at him. He felt more powerful, more like Danchou than he had in years. He let his nen flare and felt the auras of his Spiders move in response.  


_Don't look forward. Don't look back._  


Death has taught the Spider.  


  


  



End file.
